You Belong With Me
by IvoryTroll
Summary: Harry and Draco are enemies, everyone knows that but what if there's something deeper to their rivalry? Very loosely based on a Taylor Swift song of the same name. Slash.


**AN: This is a story that I wrote quite late at night so I apologise for any random errors or spelling mistakes or whatever! It's very, _very_ loosely based on "You Belong With Me" by Taylor Swift but you might be hard pushed to find much resemblance to the song. Have fun reading! :)**

You watch Harry and the Weaselette as they argue; she shouting, he tense and angry. You watch as he clenches his hands and for a second you think that he might hit her. But no, this is Harry, the Golden Boy of the Wizarding world, so he spins round as you knew he would and try to ignore the red-head's screams and sobs as she watches him go. You wait for a few moments before heading off in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. You know Harry well- too well, better than he knows himself- and you know that he'll be sitting in the stands, staring morosely out at the pitch. Sure enough, as you round the corner, he's sitting in the top stand, head in hands. Slowly, carefully, as though approaching a wild animal, you head towards him and stand awkwardly next to him for a few moments.

"Potter," you say, hating that you can't call him Harry as you do in your head and your dreams.

He jerks his head up and scowls. "Malfoy. What the bloody hell do you want now?"

You sneer back. You may love him but he still riles you up. "Are you all right?" you ground out, unable to keep up the façade.

He looks at you in surprise. "Why do you care?" he says in astonishment. You shrug; it's not like you can tell him the truth. He looks at you closely and you struggle to retain your composure. Finally he releases you from his gaze and budges up slightly. "Sit down Malfoy. You're bloody intimidating towering over me."

You smirk as you sit down. "Not my fault you're a midget with height issues Potter."

"Shut it Malfoy," he replies but you hear the smile in his voice.

You sit next to him for a while in silence, letting him brood, until something snaps inside you. "Potter," you say to get his attention. He turns to face you and you jump slightly. Since when were you sitting that close? For a second you're mesmerised by the deep green depths of his eyes and the gorgeous smell of him... You shake your head and try again. You decide to be direct; after all, this is a _Gryffindor_ you're talking to. "Listen Potter, can we stop being enemies?"

He regards you again for a moment. "Are you suggesting a truce?" You incline your head in a nod but don't speak. You don't want to ruin the moment as he considers your offer. "All right then," he says, shrugging. He holds out a hand and you take it, ignoring the flash of desire that comes from the contact.

You lapse once again into silence, looking out over the pitch. Then, as the air starts to cool and you realise that it must be close to tea-time, you nudge Harry and stand up.

"We'd better go in Potter."

"Harry," he corrects, smiling. You look at him in surprise and he laughs. "I figure that as we're, well, not enemies any more, we should call each other by our first names at least."

You smile, the first genuine smile you've ever given Harry and you cock your head to one side as you reply: "Draco."

For a long moment you both stand facing each other and grin like fools until you suddenly remember that you were meant to be going. "Come on Harry, we'd better hurry up."

He laughs again as you lope off together, ignoring the gasps of shock from the other students. "Right you are Draco,"

Over the next week, the friendship between you deepens and you almost forget sometimes that Harry is straight and with the Weasel's sister and that he will never think of you as more than a friend. That's what you are now, friends; the surprisingly easy camaraderie and banter between you allows for nothing less. After a week, when the Weaselette hasn't made an appearance, you summon up the courage to ask Harry about her when you're sitting in the Quidditch pitch stands again.

For a moment, you don't think he'll answer and then, looking across the pitch to the forest beyond, he begins to talk.

"I don't know. We used to get on so well and then lately... She keeps getting angry and we keep fighting..." He looks at you and you're shocked to see tears in his eyes. You notice with a jolt that he looks exhausted and you place a tentative hand over his. He doesn't move it and you wonder if he's even noticed. "I'm so tired of fighting Draco. I hate the arguing and the stupid fights and I'm so sick of feeling so," He shrugs and looks down at their hands. "So tired." He lapses into silence and seems to be concentrating, his eyebrows furrowing in and his lips slightly pouted. You can't help staring at them and for a moment you're so absorbed by his face that you don't notice him shifting closer, his hand curling into yours and the proximity of his face until he speaks. "Draco," he breathes and you shiver slightly at his tone. Somewhere along the line you've lost all control and you feel powerless as you both move in to the most perfect kiss you've ever had. You moan as his lips caress yours and he takes advantage of your open mouth to slide his hot tongue in. You clutch at the front of his shirt, desperate to know that this isn't a dream and that he is really there. The kiss ends- far to quickly in your opinion- and you remove your hands, trying to hide the trembling of your entire body.

"Well," you say, chuckling softly, "That was unexpected."

He smiles and tries to lean in to kiss you again but you stop him by laying a hand on his chest. "Wait. I need to know. Did you mean that or am I just a rebound?"

He shrugs, going serious again. "I don't know. I think I might..." He swallows heavily. "I think I might be falling in love with you. I've felt it for a while, before we became friends and I think Ginny knows and that's why she's so angry and I can't believe that I'm saying this still because you're looking at me oddly and I think you might be angry and oh my god, you don't feel the same way I know and-"

You put your finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. "Shut up you idiot," You smile at Harry's panicked expression. "I love you too you dolt." You say softly and, deciding that Harry's dazed look would be cleared by kissing him again, you do just that.

"You belong with me," you whisper against his lips.

"I know," he says simply.

It's the perfect beginning and the perfect end. It's Harry.


End file.
